The day he died – An existential self inquiry for anger management
Themes – Self Inquiry, existentialism, relationship, anger management
March 2014,
It was a heavy day, as my 12th board results were about to be announced. I wasn’t afraid though, but the pressure was there. The pressure of expectations of my teachers, my own self and most importantly my parents’. I was eagerly waiting for the clock to tick 10 am, so that I could put my roll number and get my results. And once the results were out, out of all persons, the one who had strictly been against cold drinks, chips, and even maggie,he brought a bottle of Mirinda home to celebrate my scores — my father.
Two years from that day, our world was upside down. I had dropped out from engineering and struck by the same, my father lost his mind. He broke so much that he began getting lost on his way home from the office, and sometimes his friends had to carry him back while he sat beside the river, musing with worry about me and my decision. The most difficult thing for me was to see him crying as the day would begin, and he would request me to get back to my college. He tried, but I was blind about what future I would have with that when I’m not even getting along the path.
But then, eventually I had to join another college. I thought maybe I could try physics, which I used to love in 12th. But 2 years later, I had to drop again.
By this time, I had started writing. I was writing characters, dialogues, and plots, inspired by the events that life laid for me and with the help of a sensitive side that I had, which was perhaps always ready to absorb all that I can take from every incident.
From that day, which was somewhere in 2016, till around 2021, me and my father had almost stopped talking, except when it was really needed. We lived in the same house, crossing each other several times over the span of 5 years, but maybe we didn’t even speak a 1000 words with each other for that long.
And whenever we did, it was more of a quarrel than a conversation. I remember he would ask me about what I would do in my life, and I would rant that he doesn’t even see or understand that I do work, I do write, but it’s just I wasn’t getting paid anyway. Now I know he wasn’t wrong.
His anger was an outcome of his expectations, which was again an outcome of his love and care for me.
But I was young, and also perhaps less confident, and I would get cranky with his questions, which always ended up us having quarrels, which would hurt him, as well as me.
I would say “the day I would be successful, the same things I write today will be the reason for my success, while now, they make me seem a failure”. But again, it wasn’t his mistake. In the end we all need that societal lens that approves, and through which we too conclude most of the time.
But one day, after another such fight, where neither of us intended to hurt each others’ emotions, I went back to my room, and recalled my father’s expressions while I was answering him back. It just brought me one question “how can I hurt him… Why do I always react and get angry just because he isn’t satisfied. Because he had done more than he could, just for me”.
And from there another tangent of thought came out. I know that could seem sick but I did imagine it. I imagine what if the next day my father dies? In my mind, I saw him lying on the varandah, covered with a white bedsheet and eyes closed, and with no movement at all. The next day, I knew he and his voice, those silent crossings of us would fill that room ever again. The thought did haunt me, and it still does as I write it down with such detail. But my point was, when that day comes, which will eventually someday, would I still be angry with him? Would I still want to shout and answer back for myself? Would I still want him to be sad for caring for me?
My heart ached with sorry. And I realized that, though that day hasn’t come, it surely will one day. No one ever has defeated death yet – and out of anything in the world, death is the only promised thing in one’s life. And with that thought I just took a breath, and promised myself that I would never revert him back arrogantly. I would surely try to make him understand, and I would really try to make him stand proud in an entire crowd someday, telling him his lessons and upbringing never failed, but for now, I would never ever try to hurt him, at least with my words.
I know this is a bit to the extreme, but often we forget that we don’t have an endless life. And here also, it goes the same – if not today, then when? and the saying – Tomorrow never comes.
The uncertainty of life, bonded with death, makes us realize how important it is to show our love and care for the ones we love, and also to those who love us the most. And when it comes to parents, they are the ones who work hard every single day, buy land, make houses and investments, and do all that for our future, where they could simply buy cars, go to restaurants, get new phones and spend money for their enjoyment, just like we do now. But they give up all of that. They give up all those desires for a new phone, or a bike, or take that promotion that could take them far out to some other state – just to be sure that their children are happy and safe.
So thanks to perhaps nature, that has stitched life with love, laughter, uncertainty and also an end, that makes it special, bringing more wisdom and love.
And since that day and realization, somehow I have always managed to keep my words and tone down, every time he had a complaint against me and my habits. Because in the end, his anger is his love and his care.
Maybe someday, someday I will make him feel the same way.
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